


Controlled Variables

by pamdizzle



Series: Scientific Procedure [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pon Farr, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamdizzle/pseuds/pamdizzle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part Two of the Scientific Procedures series. Third part coming soon. It makes more sense if you read the first part, Primary Data. Beautiful art by IvyCross, for whom these fics are written because she's my fwiend and I love her ((hugs)). </p><p> </p><p>This part of the series takes place approximately six years later, some time after the events of STID. Throughout everything, they've never spoken about what happened six years ago, but things come to a head when Spock enters Pon Farr. </p><p>Warnings for what might be a tense beginning in the opening. Jim is a bit delirious and his thoughts are flying at about a thousand miles per hour as he tries to experience and think and can't quite get a grip. </p><p>No dubcon, no rape, just a hefty amount of angst in the first few paras is all. All of these are basically porn with a tiny bit of plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Controlled Variables

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ivycross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivycross/gifts).



_**A controlled variable is a variable of an experiment or procedure that remains constant so as not to affect the quantifiable results.**_                 

 

               It wasn’t gentle or tender or any of the things Jim had hoped, if even minutely, their second time together might be. In all actuality, so many years had passed, a lifetime ago, since their first encounter that he’d stopped hoping at all a long time ago. It had been hard to watch Spock walk out of the shop that day in San Francisco, and harder still to watch the same door in the days following each time it opened and Spock wasn’t the person on the other side. He’d all but gotten over it until almost four years later when he faced his accuser for academic dishonesty. That had been surreal. Though not as surreal as watching Spock kiss a girl or the fact that neither of them had ever talked about ‘it’ since ‘it’ happened, not even after assuming their roles as Captain and First Officer of the _Enterprise_. Spock was so forward about everything else. _Everything else._

                So many times he’d been tempted to bring it up— _Hey, remember that time you were researching sexuality and I boned you in the back office at Harry’s?_ —just to be spiteful whenever the Vulcan was being deliberately obtuse. But more often it was at other, even more inappropriate instances. When they played chess, for example, and Spock’s eyes squinted and his mouth twitched in humor, or on the bridge when he felt the heat roll off the steady presence standing just behind his chair, or most recently, while dying and realizing it’s just one of those things you take to the grave because no way in hell was he going to bring it up now: _Hey, remember that time when we didn’t know each other, and I made love to you and you said you’d come back but you never did?_

                And now, especially, when it’s actually happening and hard hands are grabbing and pulling while strong legs are bracing and pushing and it feels so good and _so lonely_ all at once. Because even now, even though they’re together, _his_ Spock—his inquisitive, naïve Vulcan, the one he broke every personal rule he’d ever had for—is nowhere to be seen. This is all just instinct, and while Jim really wants to enjoy it, and part of him does very much enjoy it, this isn’t what he’d been after when he told Spock to look him up for part two of his research. This isn’t even research; its life or death, and more than that it’s heartbreak and deceit and friendships possibly torn asunder. It’s knowing that the second Spock wakes up in his own body next to Jim that these separate worlds in which their past and present have been living are going to collide in one hell of an ugly way.

                “Jim…” Spock’s voice sounds like gravel underfoot, and his body is hotter than asphalt under a summer sun.

                “I’m here,” Jim hears himself speak as he wraps his arms around Spock’s shoulders, and he doesn’t cry, because grown men in command of over four hundred people don’t cry. It’s only the first day after all, and it won’t be over until it’s over.  “I’m here.”

\--

                Jim shook into wakefulness slowly on the third day of Spock’s Pon Farr, to an aching back and cotton mouth. His legs were heavy and immovable despite the fact that this was the first day of the mating cycle wherein he’d awakened without a hot and horny Vulcan clinging to his back. “S’pk?”

                A clammy hand fell onto his shoulder and squeezed once weakly. “It is…fading.”

                Jim’s ears perked up at the first intelligible sentence the Vulcan had spoken in days. His legs protested, but Jim forced himself over onto his other side regardless so he could look at Spock’s face. He couldn’t have kept the smile from forming if his life depended on it at the sight of his friend—any shade of him—present behind brown irises. “Hey there,” he croaked. “Welcome back.”

                His smile faded as he watched the Vulcan’s throat convulse in what must have been a dry swallow as Spock turned his gaze toward the ceiling. “The remaining effects will fade within the next forty-eight point four hours without any further sexual assistance.”

                There were any number of appropriate reactions, it wasn’t as if Jim didn’t have options. However, for as long as he’d spent exercising the correct reactions over the past two years, his impulse control was suddenly at a loss. It had happened: the past three days and that one day, almost six years ago. It had been real. It was still real and god damn it but he was sick of pretending this couldn’t possibly be an option. It wasn’t just ‘sexual assistance’ and never fucking had been.

                “Hey, Spock?”

                The Vulcan turned to look at him, and his back straightened in response to what Jim knew he was projecting. This was their silent interplay, the one nobody else could interpret but seemed to have formed between them effortlessly. “Yes, Captain?”

                _Not this time._ Jim wasn’t going to let anything get in the way this time, consequences be damned—life, death, friendships, _titles_ —just…not this time. Not now. Not after the last three days. Jim shouldn’t have let it go on this long—no, _they_. _They_ should have talked about this. They should have said _something_ a long time ago. Jim wet his lips and scoot closer, draping a leg over the nearest Vulcan thigh. He held Spock’s gaze even as his hand daringly but slowly closed the distance between Spock’s half-hard sex and simple touch. Spock’s eyes never faltered from Jim’s own, even as his mouth fell open in a breathy pant when Jim tugged gently on his length.

                “I know you have an eidetic memory,” Jim started, his voice a quiet and haggard thing, “but…do you remember that time, when we first met, and I put myself inside of you?”

                Spock’s eyes widened, and he shook his head minutely and he pleaded, “ _Jim…_ ”

                He continued on anyway, as Spock’s hips undulated into his grip and his cock began to leak its natural, glorious fluid. Jim had dreamt about it so many times that feeling it now wasn’t nearly as mysterious or new as it should have been. “You never told me if you started the second phase of your research. I never found the report in the annual Starfleet Academy Cadet Research Journal, and I _did_ look for it.

                “It…was…not…completed…” the Vulcan managed between quick inhalations.

                Jim tugged on Spock’s shaft with a bit more pressure and force, just enough to express his resolve. The Vulcan’s nostrils flared in response and Jim smirked unabashedly. “It could have been,” he hissed. Most of the strength had returned to his legs with the sudden surge of arousal to his cock and he hefted himself up and over Spock’s prone body to straddle his waist. “I waited for you, you know. Every time the door opened, my head would snap up to look but it was never you on the threshold and then…there you were one day standing across from me and you didn’t even blink. And now here we are, and I’m not going back to pretending that we aren’t fucking amazing together.”

                “It is…a matter of…Vulcan biology—”

                “Undoubtedly,” Jim agreed with queer savagery, the adrenaline pumping in his veins giving him a boldness in himself he hadn’t felt in a very long time where this Vulcan was concerned. Jim raised the hand that wasn’t currently working Spock’s shaft to collect the moisture leaking copiously from the tip with every up-pull. He crooned, “But I’ve had a looooot of time to think while you’ve been shoving your cock up my ass—not that I mind, baby, trust me, there’s nothing I love more than you stretching me wide and filling me up—”

                “Hrrnnnggg…” Spock growled at his words, his head thrashing as the Vulcan fought to reign in his desire.

                “And the thing is,” Jim continued, one hand stroking steadily as the other slid down Spock’s perineum until it found the Vulcan’s hole. He pressed against it with his knuckles before slipping his thumb inside without preamble and hooking it back.

                “AH-hah-hah-hnnggg…” Spock hips began to stutter gracelessly as the Vulcan seemed conflicted over which sensation he wanted the most—the tight grip on his cock or more fingers in his ass.

                “The thing is,” he said again, after finding Spock’s reaction momentarily distracting, “if it were _just_ Vulcan biology, then any _body_ should have sufficed, isn’t that right? _Anybody_ could have volunteered to ease you through this ‘mating cycle’, in fact, I have it on good authority that at least one other willing body _did_ offer, didn’t she?”

                Spock’s eyes snapped open, and his body tensed as he answered through clenched teeth. “Yes,” he hissed, before throwing his head back in surrender.

Jim bent forward and licked a stripe up Spock’s neck before withdrawing his thumb and shoving back in with three fingers. “And yet, you said no and now here we are. Why is that, Mister Spock? Hmm?” He punctuated his line of questions with a hard suck followed by a soothing lick to the spot of flesh just behind the Vulcan’s right ear.

“ _Jim…_ ” Spock’s haggard plea was the only thing that kept Jim from pressing forward and it pissed him off that even now, knowing he could make Spock listen, he couldn’t bring himself to be that big of a dick. Instead, he was overcome with the emotions he’d been trying to hide with fire and gently he pulled his shaking hands away, wiping them on the sheets before gripping Spock’s shoulders.

“I can’t do it, Spock!” he shouted hoarsely, “I can’t just give you up again. I can’t watch you walk out another fucking door and I can’t stand thinking of you with anyone else!”

Spock’s breathing had gone eerily calm, and his body still, as he stared at Jim as though he’d never truly seen him before. His hands unfurled from the sheets and he lifted them to Jim’s face hesitantly, “There is much…I would say to you…if I could.”

Jim halted the motion of Spock’s hands as they progressed toward his temples. He then raised his hips and reached back with his other hand to position the Vulcan’s cock at his entrance. Slowly, he sank down the length until it was buried to the hilt inside of him. He rocked his hips gently, noting the way Spock’s tension visibly melted away as he relieved his painful need. Still, Spock was regarding him warily and Jim took a deep breath and smiled before kissing the back of the Vulcan’s hand and placing it around his own hot, hard sex. “You said ‘no melding’, remember?” Jim reminded. “There’s nothing I want more, I promise, but not when you’re like this.”

“Ah—after—hah…” the Vulcan replied with a determined stare that was obviously taking more energy to maintain than he had to expend before his eyes finally closed and he gave himself over. Spock moved his hand deftly over Jim’s cock, as their hips rose and fell with a slow, sensual rhythm. _This…this was more like it._

“Ungh…yeah…” Jim agreed as he eyes half shut and he let his head fall back. He rode the Vulcan’s cock at Spock’s pace, his hips swinging slowly with each unhurried movement. He felt like he was floating, like his body was riding a series of rolling waves. The palm against his cock was stroking him with little coherency but even that felt heavenly, just good enough to ease his desire but not with enough pressure or pattern to bring him over the edge. “I don’t want this to end yet,” he confessed, “Tell me we’ll keep going until it’s over. I don’t care if it ‘isn’t necessary’. If I can’t have you…just…give me this one thing…just this…for as long as I can have it…”

“Yes…” Spock shuddered as his body tensed and he cock pulsed. “Yes…yes…yes…”

\--

                The next time Jim woke up, it was to the feeling of a hot and sated Vulcan pressed snugly against his back.

 

[ ](http://s751.photobucket.com/user/Wingstar102/media/1624424_10100330460896214_1115353852_n_zps7b796e5d.jpg.html)

**Author's Note:**

> I also write original m/m erotica fiction, if you're interested. You can find it [here](http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/index.php?cPath=55_1117)


End file.
